


When There Isn't A War

by actionkat



Category: Justice League - All Media Types, Wonder Woman (2017)
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Canonical Character Death, Diana and Bruce Friendship, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Wonder Woman (2017) Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-21
Updated: 2017-06-21
Packaged: 2018-11-16 19:56:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11259873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/actionkat/pseuds/actionkat
Summary: Steve once told Diana as they swayed to soft music after saving Veld what life is like between wars…





	When There Isn't A War

“Good morning, angel.”

Diana blinked awake to the feather light touch of her lover's hand brushing a stray lock of hair from her cheek. The sun reflecting off of him from the open window was almost as bright as the smile that lit his face like a midsummer day. 

She smiled back lazily, admiring his eyes that never failed to remind her of the crystal blue water below the great city she grew up in. Diana caught his hand, cupping it against her cheek. He was warm and soft, like any pleasing dream she had ever had personified in a person. 

"Good morning." She said before yawning.

Steve rubbed his thumb slowly under her hand, putting so much love into such a simple gesture. “Do you know what today is?” 

"Of course." She laughed, moving her foot until it brushed his ankle. "It's the anniversary of the day you told me you loved me."

“It feels like forever ago.” 

“It was forever ago.” 

“We had only known each other for a few days.”

Diana tucked her thumb under his hand still resting on her face, moving her fingers in slow motions until their entangled hands were between them on the bed. The words required no verbal reply as they gazed at each other, unable to express more with words than the secrets their eyes already showed with open trust.

He pulled his hand free from their entanglement after a few more moments, and Diana admired her shirtless lover as he stretched, sitting up from their bed. The sun reflected off his toned body as he slipped a shirt over his head and looked down at her, still lying softly on the bed.

“You look like a painting.” Steve said, leaning across his empty bedside to graze his fingers across her jaw. His azure eyes bore into her, a wholehearted look that could only come from the person who knew every crevasse of your mind and body. 

She rolled her eyes as she sat up on the bed, brushing her hand off of her cheek. “Newspaper and breakfast?” She asked, tipping her head slightly.

“I’ll make pancakes.”

Diana watched Steve leave the room before standing up, feeling the chilled hardwood floor that only came with the early morning under her toes. The red silk of her robe slid over her pajama easily as she left the room, following the hum of Steve’s quiet singing coming from the kitchen.

She stopped to pick up the newspaper by the front door that the mailman had dropped through the mail slot earlier in the morning before walking silently to the kitchen, the sound of Steve singing the old song getting closer with each step. 

Smiling, she watched as her lover measure out the flour from the various ingredients set out before him, a large mixing bowl right in the front. He continued to sing under his breath as he picked up the whisk, unaware of Diana’s presence. She set the paper on the table and moved closer to him, being as quiet as possible as she wrapped her arms around his waist.

“Don’t stop on my account.” She remarked, tucking her head against his the crook of his shoulder as he stopped the chorus mid-breath. His song was off-key, but none-the-less she enjoyed his cheery voice as it rang in her ears. It was a reminder of life, and the love she had standing in front of her.

He brushed his cheek against hers, and she could feel the smile on his lips as be began to sing again.

Diana let her hands fall from his waist in order to make coffee, the sound of the coffee grinder drowning out the music. The new song Steve had begun to hum was instantly recognizable to her, it felt like only yesterday that they had slow danced in Veld, his confidence at being above average that night had shown itself to her in action as she had realized that he exceeded average in many areas; but most importantly, in his kindness and bravery. 

“Do you remember the first time we danced together?” He asked as if reading her thoughts. For all she knew, maybe he was.

“I recall it being less dancing and more swaying.”

“That’s when I realized that you were the most incredible woman I had ever met.”

She laughed, raising her eyebrows at the man who had his back to her as he made each pancake on the stove cooked to a golden perfection. “You had not realized that before?” She teased. 

Steve only gave a low laugh in reply as he attempted to flip the pancake in the pan without the spatula, sending it cascading to the floor. “That was not as impressive as I hoped it would be.” He said, as Diana reached down and picked up the almost fully cooked pancake. “At least it wasn’t doughy.”

Diana tossed the food into the trash, her aim perfect even with her target halfway across the room. “You ceased needing to impress me many years ago.”

“You never know. If I stop impressing you who knows when you’ll get bored of me and run off with one of your super friends.” 

“That will never happen.”

“Not even with Bruce Wayne? He is richer than I am.”

“Perhaps it is I who should work on impressing you.” Diana said, a smirk in her voice at her lover’s attempt at fishing for compliments.

“I don’t know if I could survive that.”

“But you would,” Diana said pouring coffee into two mugs. “Because life without you would be a loss.”

“Whatever happened to men not being necessary?”

She was silent for a few moments as they prepared their food, Steve stacking pancakes and Diana stirring Steve's over-sugared coffee. "Men are not necessary, Clio was correct with that conclusion.” She said, pausing to look up at Steve, who was balancing their breakfast with one hand while carrying two cups of orange juice with the other. “But love is.”

Her words drew his attention from balancing the objects as he shot her a happy smile. “I love you too, angel. Now help me with this juice before I drop it.” 

“You really must stop dropping our breakfast.”

“Once.” He said as she took the glasses from him, her fingers grazing against his own, leaving him with only the plates and pancakes to handle. “I won’t drop these – promise.” 

Diana sighed, sitting down at the table, allowing her lover to make a joyful show of setting the food in front of their seats. Their seats were as close as one could get without bumping elbows... as if they could not bear to be any more separate than required by movement.

Taking the time to unravel the morning paper, she unfolded it and took out the comics from the center for herself, passing Steve the rest. She had come to appreciate and enjoy the modern humor when she was in a good mood, and today was her day off. The Justice League would not bother her on this day, so for this time, she would let him be the first to read the headlines.

Steve took the paper and laughed, causing Diana to glance over in curiosity, wondering what he had found humorous. “This is what my people do,” 

“When there isn’t a war.” Diana finished, her lips twitching into a small smile. “Now you know what it is like.”

He met her eyes with a smile as he opened the paper, reading the latest headlines. Half of which were, in some way or another, about Diana and the others from the evils they had defeated two nights ago.

They sat quietly together, legs brushing every so often as they ate and read, commenting and showing the other something interesting or funny when they came across it. It was warm and peaceful, with the sun streaming through the open windows and the birds chirping their songs that carried with the breeze.

It was perfect. 

Diana’s thoughts were interrupted as Steve looked up at her, looking thoughtful.

“I know we haven’t talked about it in awhile, but remember the other things I said people do between wars?” 

She smiled. “Are you referring to marriage?” He already knew her answer to that question. ‘Not yet.’

He shook his head. “Babies.”

The smile spread wider across her cheeks as Steve's flushed a dusty pink. It was a topic she had considered many times and had known her answer for many years. "A baby would be a blessing from the gods."

“Is that a yes?”

Diana opened her mouth to agree when her cell phone rang loudly. "They would only call me if it was an emergency." She said, giving her lover a small smile as she picked up the phone.

“I understand, angel.” He said, taking her hand in his as she answered. 

She clicked to receive the call and hold it to her ear, eyes flickering between the bright azure of her lover's eyes and the warmth of home stemming from their linked fingers. His eyes the same color of Themyscira, perhaps that's why it was so easy to leave her home with him all those years ago... because when he was with her it wasn't like she was away at all. 

“Diana Prince.” She said into the receiver. 

_“Hello Diana, It’s Bruce.”_

She took in a breath, trying to loose herself in the touch of Steve’s thumb against her palm. “Has something happened?”

_“No… nothing has happened. I know you like to be left alone today, and I don’t want to bother you but…”_ Bruce trailed off as if having a hard time finding the words, or maybe just the will to say them. _“… I know what it’s like. I’m here for you.”_

She closed her eyes tightly. “I… Thank you. I’m fine.”

_“If you need to talk about it. Or him-“_

“I know.” She said, feeling the thick warning of tears constrict her throat. “Goodbye, Bruce.”

She hung up the phone quickly, dreading the darkness the met her sight as she opened her eyes. There was nothing. Everything that could have been was taken from her long ago by the war and greed of mankind. There was no sun, or pancakes, or blue eyes. The apartment was dim with closed curtains and a dry piece of toast on her plate; the black coffee she had burned was cooling in front of her. 

Untouched.

Diana picked up the photograph resting on the table. She had gotten it professionally framed after it had been given back to her, protected from the harsh elements, but leaving it open for her to reach and brush her finger across his forever young and frozen face. Just like Diana, he would never grow old.

All that remained of him was a memory.

Unlike the others, Diana did not have a weakness. For her Kryptonite had died a hundred years ago.

**Author's Note:**

> Blame Scrubs for this.


End file.
